


Slipping Through The Cracks

by Fyre



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rumpelstiltskin brings magic to a world without any, it does not go as he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipping Through The Cracks

I remember. I love you.

It always amazed Rumpelstiltskin how magical words could be, and no words were ever as potent and powerful as those five little words Belle gave him in the woods. They were given with a smile and bright eyes and true recollection.

There was no kiss at their reunion. She knew better than to press the matter, and he was afraid - still too afraid - to imagine she would want to, not after his response before. But there was warmth and her arms, and there was love.

And then, there was magic.

It was necessary for the coming battle, he knew that, and as horrified as she looked, he knew it had to be done. A crippled man with a lame right leg could not protect his true love as much as a powerful sorcerer, especially from the vengeance of the mob.

The look on her face convinced him he had lost her again. She took a step back from him, not in fear, but in disbelief, as the cloud swirled and grew and darkened around them. It was growing deeper, and darker, and she shook her head.

“You didn’t need to do this.”

“I did,” he replied, holding his stick so tightly that his hand ached. “Belle, I had to protect you.”

“This is protecting me?” 

“This is protecting both of us.”

She stared at him, then at the gathering magic. It was wreathing her like a cloak, brushing along her skin, and she brushed at it, as if she could push it away, but the more she did, the heavier it became. “Make it stop,” she said, rubbing at her hands.

He reached out, calling on the familiar power of the Dark One, baring his soul to take it back to him, summoning it to him like a dog to heel, and cried out as sharp pain lanced through his skull, driving him to his knees.

“Rumpelstiltskin!”

He looked up at the tenor of terror in her voice. He could barely see her anymore, the magic so thick around her that it clung like a second skin. 

This one.

The words weren’t spoken in any human language, but the rang through his mind, the echo of a thought, through a link shared for centuries.

“No!” Rumpelstiltskin scrambled to his feet with a roar. “No, you can’t have her!”

There was laughter, echoing around his mind, around the clearing. 

Can’t? Who are you to say can’t, mortal?

Rumpelstiltskin reached out with all the memories of all the power, tearing at the magic, the darkest twists of it. He could hear Belle’s screams within the dark tangle, and he could see the shape of her as the shadowy power clung to her very skin. She was terrified, for the first time, his brave, brave Belle.

“You are bound to me!” he screamed, tearing at the power wildly, but it was as futile as a trying to catch a waterfall in a bucket. He tried to snatch at her limbs, to give her an anchor to fight. Her mind was too vulnerable, too freshly returned. “You are me!”

I was. You freed me.

“No!” Rumpelstiltskin caught Belle’s shoulder. “Belle!”

Her mouth flew open in a silent scream and he fought against the power, watching in horror as it cascaded down her throat, stifling her and she was pulled back from him, flung to the ground, arching and squirming. He stumbled to her, but a wild gesture of her arm, tossed him back against a tree, knocking every breath from him.

He was wheezing, struggling upright when he heard her laughing. 

She was on her feet already, arms spread wide, neck arched, grinning at the sky. She should have been repellent, a monster, but the gleam of scales and the demonic eyes still hid his Belle beneath them, and even when she grinned at him, showing spiked yellow teeth, he could see her in there, behind the mask. 

“Belle?”

“Oh, I don’t think so, my dear,” she said, prowling towards him. “Your little curse has left her all in bits and pieces. Do you not remember how I can take minds apart and keep them that way?” She caught him by the chin, squeezing, her nails cutting into his cheeks, blood running down his face. “Do you not recall what I am?”

Rumpelstiltskin stared up at her, his eyes burning. “She’s still in there, I know she is.”

“Perhaps,” the Dark One agreed, smiling Belle’s smile. The dimples seemed an insult. She looked up at the sky, breathed deeply. “I like this world. It tastes of greed and corruption. I’m sure I can find a much better use for my magic than your little deals.” She crouched down beside him, her eyes gleaming. “Don’t think I’m not grateful, poppet. I’ll even let you try you twu wuv…” She wrinkled her nose, waving her fingers dismissively, “thing.”

He caught her head between his hands and pulled her into a fierce, desperate kiss.

It had worked then, and she still loved him, and he loved her as much as he ever had, and it had to work, it had to.

She bit down sharply on his lip, drawing blood, and rocked back on her heels, still grinning.

“I told you she was gone.”

Rumpelstiltskin felt as if his heart had stopped. “No.”

“Magic isn’t meant to be in this world, my silly dear,” the Dark One cooed. “And so much, all at the same time. Are you surprised I gathered a little extra when I arrived?” She pinched his cheek. “Three centuries, and still, you’re surprised. I do wonder at your intelligence, my dear, I really do.”

“What can I do to make you leave her?”

She widened her eyes, putting a finger to her lips as if in thought. “If you wish really hard.”

He lunged up, catching her around the throat. “Get out.”

She caught his arm with one hand, twisted. “Remember who I am, dear,” she murmured. “You can’t control me. You can’t kill me.”

The dagger. 

His heart wrenched remembering the dagger.

Only the dagger could ever kill the Dark One.

She extended a hand, gently caught a drop of blood from his lip on her fingertip and licked it off. “I know what you’re thinking, my dear,” she said softly, gazing at him. “If you found the dagger, can you be sure it can even work? After all, it carries your name, not hers. And if you had it, could you put the blade into her heart?” Her visage blurred and shivered, and his blue-eyed Belle gazed at him, looking devastated. “You would kill me, Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Oh gods…” he whispered, reaching for her cheek, which grew scaled beneath his fingers once more. “Please. Please, let her go.”

She tilted her head to one side. “But why? Why, dear? You held me in your prison of deals and rules and misery for centuries. Why should I not return my frustration and pain on you a thousand times over? Why should I not make you pay the price for my magic?”

“Let me, then!” he exclaimed, grasping her wrist. “Return it on me! Not on her!”

The Dark One leaned closer. “Give me a reason,” she whispered. “What would you do to have her returned to you, your precious love?”

Rumpelstiltskin stared into the corrupted face of his true love. “Anything.”

The Dark One tilted his chin up with a fingertip and kissed his lips lightly. “And that, my dear, is why you’ll never have her back.”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, at the thing looking out through her eyes, and knew he would never see his Belle again. True love’s kiss hadn’t work. She loved him. He loved her. They were together. He brought the magic, and he had cursed her all over again.

There were some words that should have had power, but didn’t.

I’m sorry. 

Forgive me. 

Please come back.


End file.
